The Various Escapades of my Brother, Kris
by celticfox
Summary: Tacroy's daughter, Alex, meets a confused Nick from the Merlin Conspiracy and lands in the middle of an adventure.
1. Chapter 1: In Which We Meet Nick

**The story behind the story: A few weeks ago, I decided I wanted to write another Chrestomanci story. But I needed a good OC as a main character. So I came up with the idea: what if Tacroy and Miss Rosalie had kids? And thus this story wrote itself. I may or may not complete it, depending on whether I get a genius idea on how the plot will go. Chrestomanci, etc, Nick, and Magi belong to Diana Wynne Jones. So please don't sue me.**

**Edit: This has been edited slightly, to fit with The Pinhoe Egg canon. So, just to be clear: this is kind of AU, taking place after Stealer of Souls but before The Pinhoe Egg. **

The world is a very confusing place. Things happen so fast. Sometimes I wonder: what just happened? How did I get from there to here in such a short time?

I'm wondering that now, as I sit here, planning to break into a sorcerer's home. My companions are an annoying teenage boy, a little kid who happens to be an enchanter, and a young dragon. We're trying to rescue my idiotic brother.

How did I get into this mess?

My brother Kris is the most annoying kid in all the Related Worlds.

Everyone says I'm the responsible one, the mature one, even though Kris is a few minutes older than me. We're twins, though you'd never guess it to look at us. Kris takes after Mom; tall, with movie-star long blond hair and gorgeous blue eyes. Half the girls in my class have crushes on him. In comparison, I'm short, with mousy brown hair somewhere between straight and curly and way too many freckles on my nose. Plus I have glasses and braces. My skin is toffee-colored, like Dad, but what looks cool on him just makes me look like a squirrel.

Ever since we were little, people asked me to look after Kris. This is not easy because Kris is the laziest, most stuck-up pig ever, _and _he's got really strong magic. Eventually I developed magical immunity, as a sort of self-defense, but that just made it worse, because now I'm the only one who can 'handle' my dear brother without getting turned into a slug, and teeth-straightening charms don't work on me (hence the braces).

Our parents are really bad at picking names, which is weird, because they have really awesome, glamorous names themselves. My mom's name is Rosalie and my dad's name is Mordecai. But when it came to naming us, our parents had really bad judgement. Kris' name isn't really Kris, it's Nigel, but Kris hates that name and picked a new one when he was five. My name is Linda Alexandra, but everyone calls me LX or Alex. My elder sister's name is Thelma. By the time my little sister was born, we had persuaded our parents to let _us_ pick her name and we named her Jackie. Our last name is Roberts.

Our parents are very important government officials. They work with the Chrestomanci himself to stop magicless people from being trod into the dirt in our world, 12B. That includes me, I guess; I've got absolutely no magical talent. Mom and Dad pretend they don't mind, but I know they're disappointed in me; they always spoiled Kris more, which is probably why he's such a brat.

Once we even went to visit the Chrestomanci and his family. But Kris (he was seven at the time) got into such a huge magical food fight with Chretomanci's children, Roger and Julia, that we never got invited back.

Kris isn't _all _that bad, I guess. He's really crazy about animals, especially cats, and if he sees someone being a bully, he has to interfere.

Our first real adventure started one day in eighth grade, after school, as we were walking home…

It was a sunny September day in a small town in Britain. Kris and I were walking home, swinging our bags. School was out for a long weekend and we were looking forward to it. We were planning to go camping in the woods with Jackie, who was ten. How different our weekend would turn out to be.

Our house is way out in the country. It's half an hour's walk from town. I rather liked the long dirt road, with farms and fields stretching out all around us. I like the feeling of space. If I had to live in the city, I think I'd go insane.

Kris doesn't share my sentiment. He is very vain about his clothes and doesn't like getting his boots dusty. Not to mention the fact that he hates walking anywhere. I'm sure that if he could teleport like Mom and Dad do to work, he'd vanish back home like a shot. Well, Mom doesn't teleport, because she doesn't have any magic (she used to, but it got taken off her by a smuggler before I was born) so Dad teleports them both, in the weird, wavy, side-ways way his magic works.

Today was a particularly nice day. The birds sang, and the sun warmed my back. I skipped along, humming a little ditty that I made up as I went along.

"You look _so_ ridiculous," my beloved brother informed me.

"If I want your opinion, I'll ask for it." But I stopped skipping.

Kris sighed. "I hate walking."

"You hate everything."

This sophisticated repartee might have continued, had not Kris' roving eye spotted something of interest. "What's that up ahead?" he asked.

I narrowed my eyes, and could indeed see a figure far up the road. "Just somebody," I said dismissively.

"Let's check it out," Kris said. My brother is constantly looking for adventure. I'm not. Dad is always telling me stories of his adventures, and they sound most uncomfortable. I like a boring life. I still do. Take it from me, adventures are not fun.

As we approached the person on the road, it became clear that it was a boy, about our age or a little older. He was tall and moderately good-looking, with long dark hair tied back in a ponytail. He was wearing a long black coat which he obviously thought made him look really cool. At the moment, though, he was just blinking about in obvious befuddlement. His eyes lit up when he saw us.

"Excuse me," he asked, "but could you possibly tell me where I am?"

"Nowhere USA," Kris answered before I could say anything.

"Shut up, Kris," I commanded. "This is Yorkshire, England."

The kid sighed. "Yes, but which England?" he asked.

"What, you're from another world?"

He started, eyes wide. "Y-you know about the other worlds? Are you a Magi or something?"

"I have no idea what a Magi is," I told him.

"Then how do you know?"

"Our dad is from another world," Kris interjected, not liking being left out of the conversation.

_"What?"_

"Yes, and he works for Chrestomanci," I said.

"Who's Chrestomanci?"

Kris snickered. "Boy, you really _are_ from another world," he said nastily. "Chrestomanci is just the most powerful enchanter in all the worlds, everywhere." Kris really admires Chrestomanci. He's heard a lot about him from Dad. Dad knew Chrestomanci when he was growing up.

"I'm sorry," he said apologetically. "But seriously, I really have no clue about this world."

"Does this happen to you a lot?" my brother sneered. "Just turn the corner, aw man, I'm in a different world?"

"Actually, yes," the kid said, smiling wryly. "It's rather a nuisance. So... is this the England where there's no British Isles, just one big Europe? Or the other extreme, the Isles of Blest? I presume this isn't that awful place where sun mutates you and water tastes strange. So where is it?"

"World Twelve B," I told him, feeling knowledgeable. Dad told us all about the world classification system, devised by the great magicians of One.

The boy frowned. "That's not the system the Magi use." He started. "Oh by the way, I'm Nick. Nick Mallory. Who are you?"

"I'm Alex Roberts, and this is my crazy brother Kris." I always introduce him as 'my crazy brother Kris' to other kids our age.

He looked from me to Kris. "You don't look much like siblings."

I blushed. It's true, but it's still embarrassing and makes me want to cry. Probably someday when Kris is some famous magician or movie star and is haunted by paparazzi, I won't have to worry about being recognized at all. That's the only good thing I can think of about my looks. "We're twins," I said in a small voice.

He grinned. "Cool. Now maybe you could take me to this Chrestomanci person? I'm sure he'll have a way for me to contact my sister. She's a Magi and she can come pick me up."

"Whoa," Kris started. I realized that for some reason he really did dislike Nick. "You can't just walk up to Chrestomanci! He's the most important guy in the world!"

I interrupted him. He was being really embarrassing. "Actually, I'm sure Dad can take you to meet him," I said, "or Mom. They both work for him, you see. Dad's like his right-hand man."

Nick smiled winningly. "Cool."

Kris scowled.

...

When we got home, my parents still weren't back from work. There was nothing unusual about this; they often work late. I showed Nick into the house and made us a snack, scrambled eggs on toast with marmalade and tea to drink. It's the only thing I know how to make. I piled the toast and eggs onto a tray and brought it out to the dining room so we could munch while we waited for the kettle to boil. Kris was slouching around, torn between stalking upstairs and waiting to see what Nick would make of our house.

He gazed about in awe. "This is so cool! Nineteenth century, am I right? Wow! You're, like, a whole hundred years behind my world!"

Kris glared at him. "That's because we use magic instead of technology," he said in his snobbiest voice. "We don't need computers and all that stuff Twelve A has."

"Oh, stop being a jerk, Kris," I told him. I turned to Nick. "D'ya want some scrambled eggs?"

He looked at the eggs. "Got any pizza?" he asked.

Kris snapped his fingers. A pizza materialized, complete with pepperoni toppings. "Show-off," I said.

Nick stared at the pizza. "Wow," he whispered. "Even Romanov can't do that."

I threw an annoyed glance at Kris, who had collapsed into a chair. "Most people in this world can't, either, even ones with magic. Only enchanters can do stuff like that, and whenever my crazy brother tries, he exhausts himself."

Nick looked at the pizza again. "If you're living in the nineteenth century, how come you know what a pizza looks like?"

Kris straightened up in the chair and snapped again. A thick book came soaring out of the library to hover in front of the otherworld boy. It was hardcover, glossy, with a plastic covering, and had bright computer pictures on the cover. It was obviously not from this world.

"John Smith's Almanak," Nick read.

"We have lots of books from other worlds in our library," I explained. "Mom teaches us about them."

"Cool," Nick said. It seemed to be his favorite word of late.

I got him a lot if other books from the library (the manual way, of course, since Kris refused to oblige) and he spent the rest of the afternoon looking through them whilst I did my homework and walked Elvis, our dog. He's named after a Twelve A singer. Mom and Dad say someone at the castle, a student from world Twelve A, named him. He's big, brown and shaggy, and he needs a lot of walking. When Thelma brought home Jackie from her art class I introduced everyone. Thelma then went upstairs to work on her homework. She's in her senior year of high school, so she has more homework than anyone else. Jackie practiced piano.

At 5:30 I started to get worried.

"Do you think we should call Chrestomanci Castle?"I asked Thelma. She shrugged. "Do you think we should call Chrestomanci Castle?" I asked Kris, who had of course finished his homework in twenty minutes (he's brilliant as well as good looking and talented). He shrugged. I called.

Nick watched, fascinated, as I spun the dial on the phone. I guess they use some other communications system in the world he's from. I dialed the special number our parents gave us so that our call wasn't sent to some flunky but actually to Mrs. Bessemer, the housekeeper at the castle. "Chrestomanci Castle," she said. "May I ask who is calling?"

"Mrs. Bessemer, it's me, Alex," I told her. "Do you know why my parents haven't come home yet?"

"Oh, dear, did they forget to call you?" Mrs. Bessemer asked. "I'm afraid your father's out on a mission, darling. Almost everyone went. Christopher, Millie, Benjamin, everyone. Practically the only people here are the children. So many of them! Frankly, I'm overwhelmed. I mean, Julia and Roger were bad enough, but two more! I don't mean to complain, I mean, Eric's so sweet, and Janet is a very good girl, but really! And Tonino, too, for a month! Your mother's working overtime on some research, dear. I'm very sorry they forgot to call you. If you want, I could get someone to fetch Rosalie," she added doubtfully.

My heart sank down into my boots. It wasn't just that Mom and Dad weren't here. That happens all the time, and although I don't like it, I've gotten used to it, and Thelma's old enough to look after us all. It was the fact that now we were stuck with Nick. I rather liked Nick, but Kris obviously didn't, and I hated it when Kris was stupid like this. I was always forced to 'deal' with him.

"Mrs. Bessemer," I asked, without much hope, "is there anyone at the castle who knows about other worlds?"

"Oh, only Eric, dear. And he's only eleven."

"Who is Eric?" I asked with interest.

"Why, haven't you heard, darling? He's to be the next Chrestomanci. Nine lives and all, you know."

Well, it wasn't much, but it was a glimmer of hope. I put on my best cutesy voice. "Mrs. Bessemer, do you think we could come and stay with you at the Castle? It is so lonely here without our parents."

"Why, of course you can come, darling! You're always welcome." Suddenly she paused, and I could tell that she had suddenly remembered the food fight incident. "I... I just hope your brother behaves, that's all."

"Don't worry, Mrs. Bessemer," I said. "He and Thelma probably won't want to go."

When I announced my idea to everyone, they did indeed not want to go. So we left them behind.

If they had come with us, I wouldn't be hiding behind a bush on soaking wet grass right now.


	2. Chapter 2: In Which We Go To The Castle

**The story behind the story: A few weeks ago, I decided I wanted to write another Chrestomanci story. But I needed a good OC as a main character. So I came up with the idea: what if Tacroy and Miss Rosalie had kids? And thus this story wrote itself. I may or may not complete it, depending on whether I get a genius idea on how the plot will go. Chrestomanci, etc, Nick, and Magi belong to Diana Wynne Jones. So please don't sue me.**

**Chapter two. Sorry I took so long to update, but I've been working on other stuff. Same disclaimers. **

By the time we got to the village near Chrestomanci Castle, it was almost seven o'clock. It began to rain. Jackie was the only one who had had the foresight to bring a warm jacket so Nick and I were freezing. Especially Nick; he must have been used to a much warmer climate, and he shivered constantly. Having left his dramatic coat at my house, he didn't even have a sweater on, just a short-sleeved shirt with big letters saying GAP.

From there it was a five-minute walk up to Chrestomanci Castle. Nick looked rather impressed when he saw the mighty stone building with its towers and turrets. Then again, that was rather the point. It was supposed to impress people.

Instead of going up to the enormous front door, I took us around the back. My memory was not so good about this but I was pretty sure there was a small side entrance, and after a bit of effort I found it.

"Umm," Nick said, looking around at the mighty towers, "maybe we don't need to do this. I mean, I could probably get home on my own. I've done it before. Well, except that I kind of took a few detours. And I have no clue how to find my own universe..."

"Come _on,"_ I urged, marching up the steps and ringing the bell. It rang and rang for a few minutes until Mrs. Bessemer came to the door. I'd only seen her a couple of times and talked to her on the phone a bit, but she was impossible to forget- a very imposing lady. A lot of people mistook her for Chrestomanci's wife. It was pretty funny, since a lot of people mistook Chrestomanci's wife for the housekeeper.

"Alex!" she cried, and hugged me. "Look at you! You've grown so much! And Jackie!" Then she turned to Nick. "And who is this handsome young man?"

"Er- a friend," I said. "Um- Mrs. Bessemer, could we come inside? It's really cold out here, and we're freezing."

"Of course, dear!" she said, and shooed us all inside. Then she led us onwards through the confusing maze of corridors that is that castle. Thankfully it was nice and warm inside. I turned to look at Nick. He was glancing about and rubbing his ears. It must be some sort of magical protection about the place, I thought. Funny, I hadn't thought of Nick as a magician, but I supposed he must be, to go from world to world. I felt very left out, and sort of depressed. You see, magic _is_ hereditary, but it also depends on strength of character. Kris, of course, has lots of character. So do Mum and Thelma and Jackie, and Nick, I suppose. Dad has character in his own strange way. But I suppose I have no strength of character at all. I feel surrounded by magicians.

On and on we went, up and down stairs, around corners, down hallways. Finally, just as I felt my legs start to give way, we arrived at a large, cosy room full of worn couches and armchairs, with a crackling fire and soft rugs. In the room were five kids, in the middle of various activities. Two plump children who looked like siblings were playing toy soldiers, making them move by magic. The boy had black hair and looked to be eleven, and the girl had brown hair in a ponytail and looked to be twelve. They were shouting orders to their soldiers.

In front of the fire, a girl who seemed to be more me and Nick's age was lying on her stomach, engrossed in a book she was reading. She had long blond hair in a loose braid down her back and was chewing on her pencil.

And in two of the armchairs, two boys of about eleven were talking excitedly. One of them was Italian-looking and had a fat book on his lap. The other looked like the blond girl's little brother and had a sleeping baby dragon on his lap, which he was stroking absentmindedly.

Jackie shrieked. I felt like shrieking two. Nick stared. "Is that a _dragon?"_ he asked excitedly.

All five of them turned to look at us in confusion. The dragon woke up and snorted smoke. The toy soldiers faltered to a halt. Mrs. Bessemer hurried up and introduced us. "Children, these are Mordecai Roberts' children and a friend of theirs. They're staying the night. I'm sure you'll get along. I'll go and tell Rosalie you're here." Then she bustled out again.

The blond boy with the dragon looked amazed. "You're _Mr. Roberts' _children?" he asked. "I didn't even think he was married!"

"You've met my dad?" I asked.

"Oh yeah," he said, "loads of times. Me an' Tonino," he gestured to the Italian boy with the book, who grinned shyly, "met him all over the place when Chrestomanci made us go places. He's weird- er," he broke off, realizing that he was about to insult our father.

"It's okay," Jackie said cheerfully, "we know he's nuts."

"That wasn't exactly what I was going to say, but whatever," he said. "So who's your mom?"

"Rosalie Roberts," I said. "She's the librarian."

_"Miss Rosalie?!" _he said in amazement. "She's married?!"

"Er, yes," Jackie said. "Er, why is there a dragon...?"

The blond boy looked down. "Oh, this dragon?" he said. "Don't worry, he's only a baby, and he's very friendly."

"Really," she said faintly.

The blond girl put down her pencil and sat up. She had a very pretty face and clear blue eyes. "Oh, we should introduce ourselves!" she said. "I'm Janet, this is Cat," pointing to the boy with the dragon, "the Italian kid is Tonino, and the toy soldier kids are Roger and Julia. How do you do?"

"Are you all Chrestomanci's children then?" Jackie asked timidly.

"Good heavens no!" she said, laughing. "Roger and Julia are his children, Cat's his ward and pupil, Tonino's sort of an exchange student, and I'm his ward from another world."

"I'm Alex, this is my sister Jackie, and this is my friend Nick," I said, "and other worlds is really what we wanted to talk to you about."

A sudden movement drew my eyes to Cat. He was looking at Nick speculatively, and Nick was staring back in defiance. "You've got rather strange magic," Cat said with interest. Tonino, Roger and Julia turned to look at the otherworld teenager, and they got the strange expression that magic-users get when they use their powers. Nick stared back.

"Sort of sideways," Roger said. His beady black eyes narrowed.

"Well that's what we want to talk to you about," I said hurriedly, "you see, Nick is from another world. World Twelve-A, we think."

Janet's eyes widened, and she gave a little gasp. "Gosh!" she said. "That's where _I'm _from!" Then she frowned in confusion. "But if you're from my world, how come you have magic?"

I started, because Nick's face suddenly had this desperate hunted expression, just for a moment. Then he was smooth and calm again. "I suppose I'm just special," he said sarcastically. But I knew he was hiding something. I stored the knowledge away for later pondering.

"So how come you're in our world?" Cat asked.

He turned rather sheepish. "Wandered in by mistake," he said. "I'm afraid that happens rather a lot. I can't seem to control it."

Cat said in confusion, "But only really powerful enchanters can travel between worlds without extensive preparation and dragon's blood. You only seem to be about very strong magician level. Although it _could _be something to do with your strange type of magic." He got that same probing look again. "I'm pretty sure you've only got one life," he said.

Nick raised his eyebrows. "Life?"

"Sometimes people's doubles in other universes aren't born for some reason," Cat explained. "Then they end up with an extra life. People with extra lives can spirit-travel- they can leave one life here and go into another world with their other life. But you seem to be all here."

Nick stared at Cat. "You've got more than one life, haven't you?" he said.

Cat nodded. "Used to have nine," he said. "Lost six, through extremely bad luck."

"But the question is," I interrupted, "how are we going to get him back?"

Cat thought for a moment. "You say you can travel between worlds," he said to Nick. "Can you bring other people along?"

"Yes," he said.

"So why don't you bring us, and I can show you how to get home? I've never done it before, but I think I should be able to tell. It's the kind of thing I'm good at."

Nick smiled. "Sounds like a plan," he said.

**Apologies for the shortness of the chapter, but this seemed like a good place to cut it off. I'll try to have the next one up in less than a week, but no guaranties. Please review!**


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